


Please forgive me

by Glittering_Fog



Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies), Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End (2007), Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man's Chest (2006), Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl (2003)
Genre: M/M, Slash, Violence, warnings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-05
Updated: 2014-06-05
Packaged: 2018-02-03 13:00:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1745537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glittering_Fog/pseuds/Glittering_Fog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lord Beckett knows no mercy, he never did. This was his oath and it would always be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please forgive me

**Author's Note:**

> Warning!: This story contains explicit violence and (can I say rape for that?) However, if you don't like it don't read it!

The cold metal stroked along the pale body and made him shiver all over. It left behind a slight red line on his bare chest and now started to draw teasing circles which gradually began to hurt. Tight, thick ropes made of sturdy hemp tied him down a wooden desk, one limb per table leg so that his arms and legs were spread, slightly bended in the air. The man was still bewigged and had his breeches on but it looked messy and the rest of his clothes was distributed along the floor. Quite different than his tricorn which was properly placed on a chair. Now the cold metal went a little deeper in his pale flesh and intensified the circles. The tender body under it writhed in pain and couldn't hold back a low groan. Slowly it began to bleed and surely left behind prospective scars.

Widened eyes shot over to Beckett and darted swiftly between him and the other young man, as James' leery eyes viewed the sharp blade of a dagger, his slim fingers grasping around the dagger handle and resting playfully in his hand. He took a few steps forward to bend over his victim and letting the blade slide even more deeper in the soft, white flesh but the skilled fingers the cold blade was led with, didn't hurt him deadly in any way. Nevertheless, a loud groan was to hear and with each injury Beckett caused, the groan was getting louder and soon turned into a heatbreaking sob.

"Ssh ... there is no need to cry, boy", Beckett's calm voice whispered into his ear and sent waves of fear through the young man. James was held back by a fast grip of Mercer who held a knife dangerously close right under his throath and assured him with each gesture that he wouldn't hesitate to show him the use. He just had to make a wrong movement and Mercer would take him the last breath. The former Commodore wanted to struggle, to wriggle out of his grip and slit them both open, showing them how painful the view of his bleeding friend was but that would be his irreversible death, and a dead friend isn't quite useful for ...

"Andrew ...", the desperate green of James' eyes watched his friend pitying, his weak voice was to hear and filled Gillette with a bit of hope but it faded as fast as it was coming when the blade pierced through his flesh once more.

He arched his back as much as he was able to, his gritted teeth showed up under his parted lips and let through a sharp hiss. The pain was almost unbearable and his only chance to withstand it was clenching his hands to fists and burying his own nails in his palms, but it wasn't comparable.

"Let go of him you son of a- ...", James' screamed, tried to struggle forward to Beckett but his voice cracked immediately as Mercer made a slight cut under his throat, causing James to yelp in shock and fall on his knees. "You should adopt a different tone, Commodore", Mercer said and rested his hand above his hand, taking a handful of hair to keep him down. But James decided to focus all his efforts in setting Gillette free, to take the pain away from him, either way. The younger man suddenly looked so shaky and fragile under Beckett's cold touch, as if he was about to break.

His boyish face, still so innocent and untouched. Beckett was close to reach back and letting him feel the blade once more but the weak tone of James' voice interrupted him. "Please, he's still so young. Let him go and take me instead of him." It was a long time since he has seen the Lord laughing with so much sound but it let him feel ridiculous and it had a despicable background in it. "James Norrington, your loyalty towards your fellow men didn't fade away yet", the bloody dagger's point circled around Gillette's navel and caused him to squeeze his eyes shut, his eyebrows were strained, "and you proved to be venerable", with each word James' heart was beating as fast as a rabbit's one. Slowly, Beckett wiped a tear out of Gillette's face who silently howled in shock and pain, seeming to sweet though. He hushed him by placing a finger on his lips, stroking it up and down with his thumb and Gillette couldn't help himself but it felt like a blessing unlike the many hurting scars. Finally Beckett completed his sentence, "and that's why I want to give you a chance."

A chance? Was that a sick game? James couldn't believe that, the sound in his voice was so devilish and suspicious. The only thing he wanted from now on was pressing Beckett against a wall and choking him until he was begging for air but even then he wouldn't loosen his grip. He just wished it, he wished it so badly to happen. And Mercer right behind him. But what was the chance he was talking about? Gillette felt that his body was rigid. Rigid of pain and rigid of the words that came out of Beckett. He just wanted to get out of here, to see a familiar face, like Groves. To sail with the Dauntless, even scrub the deck or anything. Just leaving this place and taking James with him, like nothing happened. But these thoughts were unreal. The aching ropes around his wrists and ankles were real, they hurt like real ones and left behind conspicuous stripes.

_"James ... oh dear James. No matter what they say, try to withstand and don't do what they say. Even if that means my death, try to safe your life, not mine. I'm in such a pain but that's not a reason for me to give up. I just don't want you to leave the biggest mark on me ... I just wish you tried to flee. Oh, please try to flee."_

Gillette's thoughts broke and he slowly turned his head to James, not wanting to say anything but - go and leave me here. But James avoided his expression and looked up to Beckett again who received killing eyes, letting his booted feet stroking along the wooden floor, now facing James, just a hair's breath away from him. Both could feel the bad aura that surrounded them and either James nor Beckett looked away. And before James could complete his breath, the piecing words stabbed through his chest and rested there like a rammed knife.

"You will fuck him."

For a second, James thought his heart stopped beating. Gillette's eyes shot open and now he struggled and fighted like he never did it before. He writhed until the cramps in his back were shooting waves up his neck. But the strengths were leaving him soon and now he held still and it was impossible to hide the shivering. For the first time he swallowed to clear his throat, trying to force the words out. "P- please ... Commodore. Don't ..." Beckett didn't know any mercy, never. That was his oath and it would ever be. He sauntered over to Gillette and stroked his strong flushed cheek. "Such an innocent boy ... I promise I would do it myself if it wouldn't hurt my reputation." His gaze wandered to James, seeing his desperate eyes watching him, then turned to Gillette again and now his voice was more serious.

"Do it or he'll die", he said and placed the dagger on his chest, seeming to be about to pierce it right through if he wouldn't make a decision quickly.

It was always an advantage to have a choice between two things because there you could at least hope. But what shall you do if both things turn out to a bad dilemma, no matter what you decide for? Then it's getting a problem, and in some situations even a really serious problem. But what would you do? Hurting your friend by an intimate action and mark him for the rest of his life or letting him die by the hand that once promised you so much?

Mercer hesitated a second and Beckett gave him a nod before he loosened his grip on Norrington's wigless hair and kicked him forward, caught himself on the floor as he landed hard on it. He rose slowly, tried to fight against the will of his shaky knees which almost forced him down to the ground again. While he made his way towards Gillette who tried everything to strip off the ropes, Beckett sat down a big chair behind the desk Gillette was tied on, but used his feet to put some distance between him and the desk. "Enough place for you to perform your work, Commodore", Beckett said and in the next moment the dagger was rammed into the chair's armrest. The view of it made both men shudder. Beckett didn't even look like he could something like that. Well, the blade stuck deep. But he could damage his chair with as much knifes and daggers and swords as he wanted, it wouldn't impress James in any way. It would at least cause Gillette to completely lose it mentally and that was the last thing he wanted.

James stood there as if he was nailed and already began to write a novel in his head, containing nothing but the things he had to say sorry for. How he just didn't want to do this to Gillette but it was their only chance to get out there alive. Though, he didn't move but received some help soon. Mercer reached out quickly to take his sleeve and drag him to the desk. "Go on, Commodore, it's all yours now." James could regular feel how the young man's body under him quivered and did everything possible to calm him down, to prepare him for that what awaited him and promised nights of torturing dreams. He tried to imagine that it was Elizabeth, an untouched young lady who deserves so much tenderness and care at the first time of a lovely night. But no, it was Gillette who was laying there. A young man in his early twenties who didn't ever deserve an experience like that. Slowly, James bent over Gillette, his bare chests pressing against his. The taller man placed his head on the younger's shoulder and began to nibble softly at it, stroking his hair but not taking off his wig.

Gillette felt how sweat appeared uncontrollably on his forehead, how his entire body began to heat up and made him feel like he was burning in hell. There wasn't a big difference between it. James hated himself for the throbbing bulge he could feel pressing against his breeches and waiting for release, he knew how wrong this was. Doing what Beckett wanted from him to save him and his friend, was that wrong? Was the price both had to pay for the rest of their life wrong? Beckett was a man who always stood by his words and he'd never break a promise - or at least not if he has seen a benefit in it. With a serious growl, James began to take off his uniform but then hesitated as he saw his howling friend, watched by Gillette who let out a forced whine by the happening in front of him. It felt like the air changed between warm and cold in an abnormally way and caused him to sweat and freeze at the same time.

With the biggest effort he tried to repress that one fact. He wanted James, he always did and he wanted him so badly. All the time, he imagined how his skin would feel, pressed against his. How he would taste and make him feel so good. How he just wanted him and only him. The Commodore took the biggest place in Gillette's heart he could offer to him and he never regretted this decision before, never replaced him with another one. But everything changed so fast. He wanted him ... but not this way. Not this painfully forced way. A tear streamed down his reddened cheek and mixed with the thin film of salty fluids on his face, turning his face away, hiding his angst from James and muttering, muttering in hope - that this would be over fast. But James could hear him clearly and his heart was about to break as he heard the mournful voice of Gillette. "P- please ... please, Commodore ... don't l- let me suffer", his weak voice crept its way up his throat.

James closed his eyes by his words and placed his head on Gillette's chest, feeling the heavy breath, his chest raising up and down. Then he slowly bent over, his lips placed with the greatest care he was able to affort near his ear and tickled his skin with the warmth of his voice. "I won't hurt you, Andrew ... I promise", he said and then turned to look at Beckett who watched him with a mischievous smile. "Take off your clothes now." Though his biggest fear appeared now, he slowly began to take off his uniform, tossing it somewhere under the desk, followed by his shoes. His fingers trailed down his breeches and rested there for a moment before he pulled them down, as slowly as possible, letting out a small hiss of relief when his aching length suddenly dashed forward.

The caring hand of James stroked soothingly along Gillette's burning cheek, he took his face with both hands and then bend over again to pull him in a soft innocent kiss. His trembling lips met the soft wet flesh, sharing each others sweet taste and unfortunately not wanting to seperate. For the first time, James received the sweetest sound of a squeak as he asked for permission by pressing his warm tongue against Gillette's still closed mouth, entering him with his tongue and sending a wave of warmth in his mouth. Their tongues tangled shyly together but didn't omit any sweet part of their mouths. No, James didn't want this, it wasn't right. But, yes, it felt so good though. As if Gillette gave him a part of his youth, he just couldn't describe it with words because it was a mix of hell and blessing. Gillette wanted to wrap his arms instinctively around James but the ropes held him back, and so he couldn't do anything but putting up with the unbearable teasing feeling James gave him with each thrust of his tongue. The kiss went deeper and now became a little wilder. James moved his body in a wavelike motion, up and down, sending electric waves through them.

The Lord, sitting behind his desk and watching them both carefully, seemed to be amused by his sight and started to give James orders and slowly James broke the kiss. "Undress him ...", Beckett dragged the dagger out of the massive wood of the chair and offered it to James, who took it with mistrust. In a teasing way, James' slim fingers wandered down Gillette's breeches and began to slice them and not wanting to hurt him, also hearing him hissing in relief as he released him out of his tight imprisonment. The younger man's face now was flushed all over and it showed James how uncomfortable he felt, and began to whisper apoligizing words. "You don't even know how much this hurts me right now ... I'm so sorry." Gillette still turned his face away and tried to stop the shudder in his voice, which made it much more worse to speak. "It's ... not your fault, Commodore." "Stop talking over there and keep doing your work, Commodore", Beckett ordered in a commanding tone.

A thought of concern overran James as he began to trail small kisses along the writhing body under him but he tried to ignore it and left wet kissing marks on him. His tongue drew a considered pattern on his chest, then flicking his tongue around his nipple and electing a soft moan out of Gillette, who reacted with a slight arched back, curling his toes in unwanted pleasure. James ran his palms along Gillette's hips and squeezed them a little. The more Beckett's grin grew, the more James wanted to see him bleeding and gasping for air. He never had such murderous thoughts but this man was a monster, what he expected him to do was nothing but sick. Again, his voice interrupted him and in some way he was thankful for it. He was thankful for each break he could give Gillette. But before he spoke, he suddenly raised from his seat and sauntered over to the men, not any sign of lechery in his face.

He placed his hands on the wooden desk, Gillette's head tilting between them and asking for mercy but Beckett didn't give him any notice, he just looked at James with an eager gaze. "You will make the next step and I hope for you that you will do it well, or else ..."At these words James could feel how the cold barrel of a gun pressed against his neck which Mercer held strict and frighteningly precise against his in angst pulsing carotid. James swallowed hard as his grip tightened around Gillette's slim hips, his nails burying in it and made him gasping. Gillette felt like a whore, how he was tied on a desk and moaned at each touch, but his sensitiveness made it all worse. From now on James wanted to do everything to make him feel comfortable and prepared, in each way he could think of. He planted kisses along his stomach and run his tongue cleanly behind after each one, went further and further until he reached his most sensitive part. But before he could coat Gillette with his warm saliva, he got interrupted again.

"Now, I didn't say anything of preparation", he paused a moment and then looked down to Gillette. "You will come to the main part now." "Please ... " He was begging for mercy but nothing helped, nothing would take the pain away that was promised him now, not even the helpless efforts of James to soothe him. For the last time, James whispered gently and tried it with his voice, their last and only expedient. He grabbed his hand to feel if he hurt Gillette and both of them knew, it was inevitable. For the last time, two pairs of eyes met and melt together. Then, he made a slow movement forward, Gillette feeling the still soft tip pressing against him, James feeling the squeezing hand and slowly pushed inside him. Gillette never panted so much for air in his life, as James buried himself in his unprepared body. He felt like the hardness split his body in two at any moment. The tightness around James made him shiver in pleasure and shock, his breath shaky and irregular, then he pushed further inside him until the shaft was completely inside him.

He was just waiting for it - the next discriminatory order which followed soon. "Either I'm getting deaf, Lieutenant or something blockades your throat - I can't hear you." Before he received another meeting with the blade, he started to moan, first silently and reluctantly but as James began to find his rhythm, his mouth shot open and now his moans mixed with James', fitting with his pace. James took his other hand, feeling the cold sweat. His bound hair hung over his shoulder and tickled Gillette's cheek as he bend over again to whisper to him. "I'm ... so sorry."

Mercer gave him a push on request of Beckett and his thrusts got more vigorous now. "I'm so deeply sorry, Andrew", he sobbed. Gillette could feel how James hit his sweet spot and now his forced moans turned into a strident squeak, his eyebrows hurting by straining and his mouth dry by panting for air. After several more painful thrusts, a last deep thrust, a last heartbreaking sound and Gillette came first, spilling the hot semen on James chest who reacted with his own climax, the knot in his stomach finally bursted and filled the shivering body under him. Both men collapsed and panted heavily. James was so uncertain what to do now, pulled slowly out and gazed at the face, distorted with pain, and a pair of twitching eyelids.

For the last time, James kissed Gillette clean of his tears and softly whispered between the kisses, "Please, forgive me." Beckett said nothing, his expression was still icecold. Not even a word, just nothing. But it didn't take long and he raised from his seat, stepping to the door and taking a last view on both men. "Mercer will make sure, that you'll get new uniform", he said quietly. "You are dismissed until next week, same time." His gaze wandered to the still howling man. "And don't forget to bring each other along", and with these words he left his office, followed by Mercer and leaving them alone.

When the coast was clear, James immediately grabbed the dagger and cut the thick ropes which still kept Gillette down, freed him and pulled him in a deep hug, never wanting to let him go. Both couldn't hold back the tears as they felt their warmth against each other, but both knew it would be hard to build up their relationship - if it wasn't already completely destroyed. Gillette remembered James' words. Wrapping his arms tighter around his shoulders, he took a firm grip on his weak bounded ponytail and murmured against his shoulder.

"Oh James ... I'm forgiving you."


End file.
